Woes of the Sorting Hat
by MnemeMemory
Summary: Watch in awe as the Sorting Hat is forced to Sort six transfer students from the Institute in New York (or: the Shadowhunters come to Hogwarts).
1. In Which the Sorting Hat Despairs

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything, I swear! I wouldn't be _writing_ this if I owned _Harry Potter_, and if I were Cassandra Clare, I wouldn't be such a crazy person (I own _neither_ series – man, I _wish_ I did, though).

**Warnings**: nothing, really. Maybe a bit of swearing? OOC-ness, for sure (I'm terrible at writing in character)

Enjoy!

"And now, may I introduce the new transfers for this year?"

The Sorting Hat ignored the Headmaster Dumbledore in favour of opening its leathery eye. Six figures – completely dressed in black (except for one, who looked like a glitter-factory had thrown up on him) – stood in the middle of the Great Hall. A few of them were shifting awkwardly, but for the most part they looked completely at ease.

Transfers to Hogwarts were an unusual commodity. The last time it had been tried – some fifty years ago – it hadn't ended very well (everyone was _still_ perplexed as to where those pigeons had come from).

"They're on loan to us from a special community for the protection of our school. Please give them a warm welcome."

Scattered applause sounded around the room, but the Sorting hat noticed that most people were just staring at them. They were certainly stunning people, that was for sure.

"Jonathan Christopher Herondale,"

"Are you kidding me?" a boy with golden hair and a stunning face muttered as he ascended to sit on the stool. "It's _Lightwood_, old timer. _Jace_ _Lightwood_."

"I apologise," the Headmaster said, amused. "Please give a warm welcome to Jace Lightwood,"

The boy smirked and jammed the hat onto his head.

_Hello_.

"By the Angel, it speaks!" Jace choked.

A ripple of amusement ran through the room, and the boy scowled.

_Interesting – very interesting_.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Jace muttered, tensing.

_Shadowhunters, huh? Haven't seen one of those in years._

"Did Dumbles tell you that?"

_No, no. I've come across a few of your kind in my day. So Tom is summoning demons, then?_

"Yeah – if by 'Tom' you mean 'Moldy',"

The Sorting Hat just sighed and went back to sorting through this strange boy's memories.

_Raised by Valentine, but not his son, hmm? And how does that make you feel?_

"What are you, a shrink?"

_Of a sort. Brave – very brave. Loyal as well. To your family. To your girlfriend. Hufflepuff would be good for you_.

"Look, Dumbles wants us to protect that Potter kid. Think you could sneak me into there?"

_Sneak? I think you'd thrive in Gryffindor, my boy. _

"Good."

_Are you sure_?

The boy smirked. "Of course."

_Very Well_. "GRYFFINDOR_!"_

The table of lions roared in approval, and Jace placed the hat carefully back on the stool and sauntered over to the table. The Hat noticed with mild interest that he sat fairly close to Harry Potter and his two close friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley.

"Isabel Lightwood," Headmaster Dumbledore intoned.

A stunning young woman with inky black hair strode confidently forward and grabbed the hat.

"So you're alive, huh?" she muttered, flipping it around so she could inspect it.

"Please, Ms Lightwood, put the hat so that you can be Sorted."

"Whatever," the girl muttered, sitting down gracefully on the stool and crossing her legs. The Hat was plonked onto her head.

_Good evening, Miss Lightwood_.

"Huh. You _do_ talk," the girl sighed. "Alright, get on with it."

You're very loyal to your friends.

"Of course I am. I'm a _Lightwood_," she said, like the Hat had said something insulting.

_I mean no offense_.

"Just hurry up so I can go and sit down." There was a pause.

_You're very forward and true to your values. You, like your step-brother, would do very well in Hufflepuff. _

"That had better be a compliment,"

_Ah, so quick to judge_. The Hat lamented. _Of course it's a compliment. Not for Ravenclaw, though. You prefer action to planning_.

"Are you _sure _you're not talking about Jace?"

_Slytherin is out of the question. No offence intended, of course, but I don't think you have the necessary ambition; though, of course, your cunning would fit in well there._

"Thanks," Isabel preened.

_Are we in agreement? Gryffindor_?

"If you must_,_" she sighed.

_Good_. "GRYFFINDOR!"

Isabel practically skipped over to her step-brother after putting the hat down, flashing a stunning smile to one of the remaining boys in her group.

"Alexander Lightwood,"

"Just Alec. Please." A boy with messy black hair and an uncomfortable expression sighed, looking far more timid than his siblings. The Hat watched with interest as he walked forward and shoved the hat onto his head.

_Hello, Mr Lightwood_.

Unlike his siblings, Alec showed no surprise at the Hat's voice.

"Can we please get this over with?" he said softly, eyes darting around in what appeared to be paranoia.

_You're very cautious_.

"It keeps my siblings alive,"

_Yes, another Shadowhunter. Your siblings are quite accomplished_.

"I know," there was a thread of resignation tainting the pride in his voice.

_You are not pleased at that?_

"I'm glad that they're good fighters."

The Hat didn't say anything else, just flicked through a few memories.

_Loyal – yes, I can see that you and your siblings share that personality trait. And intelligent. You love to study?_

"It's more interesting than training. I can't match up to Izzy or Jace."

_I think you underestimate yourself. Yes, I think Ravenclaw will do you well_.

"Not with my siblings?"

_Bravery is a trait that you possess, yes, but it is not your _defining_ trait. Ravenclaw is where you belong_.

"If you say so."

_Such doubt_, the Hat clucked disapprovingly. "RAVENCLAW!"

Alec slunk away quickly, going over to sit at the end of the Ravenclaw table. The Hat noticed that the boy covered in glitter beamed at him, and Alec reluctantly smiled back.

Interesting.

"Simon Lewis."

A tall boy with curly brown hair and pale skin walked up to the stool and calmly put the Hat on his head. The Sorting Hat realised that this was the boy that Isabel Lightwood had smiled to.

"Hi," he said before the Hat could say anything. "Please put me anywhere but Slytherin."

_Why_? The Hat asked, intrigued.

"Because some dweeb called Malfoy annoyed the hell out of me. _And_ I'm pretty sure Bane's gonna be put in there." There was a pause as the Hat gave an unpleasant start at the name 'Bane'. But of course, they couldn't be talking about the same man. What were the odds? "Besides, they all look creepy."

_Slytherin is not a bad house, my boy, though I do agree that it does not seem to be for you. Maybe Ravenclaw?_

"Look, don't get me wrong – I like Alec. I really do. But I've heard that Ravenclaw's are supposed to be, like, freaky smart. I'm _average_ smart."

_I think you could be just as intelligent at Mr Lightwood, should you put your mind to it. Still, your loyalty to your friend Miss Frey is truly amazing. You – quite literally – died for her_.

At that, Simon jerked upright in the seat.

"You're not going to…" he started.

_Do not worry. Dumbledore is well informed about the doings of Downworlders, and I will not tell anyone else_.

"Oh, the Headmaster knows. But the other teachers…"

_I don't have many dealings with them. Your secret is safe with me_.

"Thanks."

_Hufflepuff, then, unless you have any objections_.

"None that I can think off. They all look like pretty cool guys,"

_Good_. "HUFFLEPUFF!"

"Thanks, dude," Simon said, taking the hat off and going over to the 'Puff table.

"Magnus Bane!"

A horrible feeling went through the Hat. Surely not…

"Hello, darling!" the boy drenched in glitter chirped as the Hat settled onto his head.

_Oh, no…_

"Awh, wasn't I missed?"

"SLITHERIN!" the Hat practically screamed. "He's in SLITHERIN! Now GET HIM OFF ME!"

"Let's do this again sometime, darling," Magnus laughed, and the Hat shuddered.

_Go away_.

"See you!" Magnus grinned, taking off the Hat and bouncing over to the Slytherin table. In a sea of green, he looked very out of place; more so when it became obvious that no one was clapping for him, and there was a defined space between Magnus and the children on either side of him.

The Hat barely noticed Alec Lightwood giving his boyfriend a suspicious glare; too busy trying to scrub its memory of all things Bane.

"And, last but not least, Clary Fray!"

The last of the strange group – a small girl with stunning red hair – sat down calmly and accepted the Hat onto her head.

_You're the last, right? There aren't any more of you hiding around, are there?_ The Hat asked anxiously.

"Don't worry, I'm the last," Clary laughed.

_Oh. Good_. The Hat forced its concentration back to Sorting the girl. _Hmm…very interesting – Valentine's daughter, you say?_

"Great. Let me bare my soul to a strange," Clary sighed.

_Oh – thinking you were in love with your brother; how awkward_.

"Oh, you have _no idea_. Think we could hurry this up? Jace gets grouchy when he doesn't get to eat."

_Yes, Jace_. The Hat paused, delving deeper into Clary's thoughts.

"That's very intrusive." Clary growled. "I've already had a few people in my mind, and I'm not exactly happy that you're there as well."

_I apologize. I just want to put you in the House that best suits you. _

"Just go with Gryffindor," Clary sighed.

_Why? You are brave, of course, but I think you would do well in Hufflepuff, with your friend Simon_.

"Yeah, _that's_ a good idea." Clary rolled her eyes. "Look, think about this; Jace is insane. If I'm not there to rein him in, _bad things will happen_."

The Hat paused to review everything he had found out about Jace Wayland-Herondale-Lightwood (talk about identity issues) and supressed a shudder.

_Point taken_. "GRYFFINDOR!"

Clary nodded her thanks, and hopped off to go and kiss her boyfriend.

"Now that the Sorting is done, let us eat!"

The Hat tuned out the Headmaster in favour of mulling over the transfers (careful to avoid thinking about Magnus Bane). It was certainly going to be an interesting year.

The Hat was glad it was safe in the Headmaster's office.

**Author's Note**: I hope this didn't suck too badly (first actually published fan-fiction). I think I'm going to make this into a series. Next Year: Fairy Tail!


	2. The Unfortunate Incident with Gar-Goyle

**Disclaimer**: I own neither _Harry Potter_ nor the _Mortal Instruments_. Pretty sure I'd know if I were J.K. Rowling or Cassandra Clare (still, I can dream…)

**Warnings**: um…no, not really.

…

The Hat could barely stop its shuddering.

_They were here_.

"I'm sorry, Mister – what was your last name again?"

"_Lightwood_," the golden-haired boy snapped.

"Yes, Mr Lightwood. Would you like to explain to me what exactly happened?"

"It wasn't Jace's fault!" his girlfriend, Clary, jumped in. "It was that twit, Goyle!* If he hadn't been provoked…"

"Ah, but that is not the point, Ms Fairchild. I am more concerned about the fact that one of the people I have employed to _protect_" – here, the old cook stressed the word and stared down at the group, eyes hard – "my students has _attacked_ one of them."

"He was totally asking for it." Jace muttered sullenly.

Clary threw him a look that clearly said 'shut up'.

He ignored her, of course. "Besides, it wasn't even _my_ fault. If you're looking for someone to blame, choose Alec!"

Alec – the scrawny child with dark hair – looked up from his book in panic. "Huh?"

Jace groaned. "I'm doomed, aren't I?"

_Magnus Bane_ – the Truly Terrible, the Evil One, the One Who Must Never Be Mentioned – smirked and put his arms around Alec's shoulders.

"Of _course_ you are, darling," he said. "I, however, will vouch that it is _not_ my Alec's fault."

"Thanks," Alec eyed his boyfriend wearily.

"Forget that!" his sister, Isabel, snapped. "_I_ want to know what _happened_! I was just doing my usual rounds when I was called here!"

"Who's patrolling at the moment?" Clary looked around in alarm.

"Some of the members of the Order," Dumbledore said serenely. "Please, calm down and tell me what happened. I'm afraid that you've put me in a very serious position, Mr Lightwood. Mr Goyle is very good friends with a certain Draco Malfoy – and Mr Malfoy's parents are very influential; they will take action against you. Your position at the school is shaky; there are those who oppose you."

"_I_ don't want to be here!" Jace said loudly. "_I'd_ rather be home, hunting demons. We don't get anything _good_ around here." He looked aggravated.

The Sorting Hat could barely contain its shudder. It wanted these – these _interlopers_ out of its sanctuary. The only people who usually came into the Headmaster's Office was the Headmaster himself.

Of course, over the past few years, Harry Potter had also become a regular; still, Mr Potter was someone the Hat was willing to handle. A tricky Sorting, yes, but no less interesting…

Unlike these horrors.

"Mr _Lightwood_," Headmaster Dumbledore stressed. "I need to know what _happened_."

"Alright, alright," Jace huffed.

"Goyle was making fun of Alec and Jace knocked him out," Clary stepped in quickly, before the loudmouth could do any _more_ damage.

"Technically, he was making fun of Alec and _Magnus_," Jace shot her an annoyed look. "But, yeah, I didn't really care about the warlock. Now, if Alec had stood up for _himself_, than we wouldn't be having this conversation…"

"He'd be dead," The Awful One said cheerfully, slitted eyes gleeful. "He was beginning to get on my nerves."

"I was doing just _fine_ until Jace butted in," Alec put in, dragging his attention once again away from his book.

"You were debating whether to hit him yourself or run away," Jace retorted. "And – no offence, Alec – I'd bet good money that you'd take the second option."

"Whatever," Alec said, annoyed.

The Hat shuddered. "Dumbledore," it said.

The Headmaster looked up, clearly startled. He adjusted his half-moon spectacles and inclined his head.

"Yes?"

"_GET THEM OUT OF HERE!_" the Hat roared. "And HIM! Get _HIM_ out of here!"

The One Who Shall Never Be Mentioned smirked, tightening his arms around his boyfriend. "Awh, didn't you miss me?"

"NO!" the Hat fairly wailed.

Dumbledore blinked. Once.

"Perhaps we should move this meeting to somewhere less…" he pursed his wrinkled lips. "Loud?"

"No, no," The Evil One said, uncurling his arms from around Alec and sauntering over to look at the Hat. "I've been meaning to have a nice…chat with you."

"What do you mean by that?" the Hat demanded, shrinking back from the warlock's glittered fingernails. "Someone make him stop!"

"Magnus, leave the poor thing alone," Alec said.

Magnus threw his boyfriend a smirk and ignored him. "Now, about the last time we met…" he started. "I've been meaning to ask what was put into that chocolate…"

The Hat gave a wail and shook itself furiously. "LEAVE!"

Dumbledore watched it all with narrowed eyes, and then calmly asked for Magnus to sit down.

Magnus shrugged and slid back beside Alec, pouting.

"As I was _saying_" – Clary shot Magnus a glare – "That oaf Goyle caught Alec and Magnus in a – ahh – _uncompromising position_, and…"

"Oh, say it like it is," Isabel snorted. "I wasn't even _there_, and I can guess what happened. The blockhead found Magnus with his tongue down my brother's throat" – her glare at him rivalled that of a demon, and Magnus had the common sense to at least _pretend_ to cringe – "and then proceeded to do something very stupid. Jace somehow walked in on this…" she paused and made an exaggerated '_hmm_' motion. "Probably because they were in a nice, secluded space that is probably good for a make-out session – which, by the way, would explain why Clary was there, as well."

Clary looked incensed, but swallowed her protest at Isabel's smug look.

"And how does this lead to one of my students in the hospital wing?" Headmaster Dumbledore demanded. "With a broken nose, no less."

Jace waved his hand casually. "Pfft, that's _nothing_. I was _saving_ that guy's ass – you should be grateful, Dumbles."

"Why?" Dumbledore finally began to look a little bit annoyed.

_Finally_, grumbled the Hat. _What does he have – the patience of a saint_?

"Magnus already told you – he would have _killed_ Gar-Goyle if I hadn't stepped in."

"And knocked him out." Dumbledore didn't look impressed.

"I didn't have any other choice!" Jace insisted, trying – and failing – to appear heroic.

Clary whacked him on the chest. "Shut up, idiot."

"Hey!" he shot her a wounded look. "I'll have you know, I attacked him with the best intentions in heart. I _didn't_ do it because he was annoying, or rude, of _insulting_" – his golden eyes darkened, and his gaze flickered to his uncomfortable-looking _parabatai_ – "No! I did it for _none_ of those reasons! I did it to _save his life_."

Behind him, Clary slapped her palm to her face. "Idiot." She repeated.

"You know I can hear you, right?" Jace said without taking his eyes away from Dumbledore.

"I know. I'm just waiting for you to _listen_ to me."

"I'm afraid that I'm going to have to put Mr Lightwood on parole, then."

Alec looked up from his book once again in alarm. "What?"

"Jonathan," Headmaster Dumbledore clarified.

"Good."

"_Jace_," he muttered. "My name is _Jace._ You know, Dumbles, I'm beginning to think that you're doing this name-thing on purpose."

Dumbledore's eyes just twinkled merrily, former good-mood restored.

"Hang on one second," Magnus straightened in his chair, and the Sorting Hat cringed in anticipation. "Now, don't think I object to Jace being punished – I do – but what about this _Goyle_" – he said the name like it was a bad word. "_He_ was insulting me and Alec!"

Alec rolled his eyes, burrowing deeper into the chair. "It's no big deal."

Magnus arched his eyebrow. "So you're saying that you were _okay_ with what he was saying about me?"

Alec's eyes darkened with equal parts nervousness and rage.

The Hat wasn't surprised; it had seen into the boy's mind.

"Well…_no_…" he finally said, eyeing the Headmaster wearily. "But I was going to do something about that…later…"

Magnus' eyes brightened. "Of course!" he said a touch too quickly. "What was I thinking?" he flashed the Headmaster a big grin. "We'll be going, now." He pulled Alec from his chair, ignoring the Shadowhunters' protests.

"Sit _down_, Mr Bane," Dumbledore's voice was steely. "You will _not_ do anything to endanger my students. Am I clear?"

"Crystal!" Magnus assured him.

"He's lying!" the Hat fairly wailed. "Don't believe a word he says! He's _evil_! Pure _evil_!"

"One time…" Magnus muttered.

"I want to know what happened!" Jace said quickly.

Clary rolled her eyes. "I can't believe that I'm agreeing with the moron, but I _am_ agreeing with him. What did you _do_ to that poor Hat?"

Magnus simply smirked. "Come, Alec. We have nefarious plots to devise!"

"Hey! Wait! I need to finish this chapter…!"

…

*** **I was going to use Malfoy ("Hello, cliché! How I have missed you…") and then I decided that I'd just use Gar-Goyle who always followed along after him. No reason why… (I also have no reason to explain myself here…) *sobs* I'm so deprived of someone to talk to…

**Author's Note**: I have once again come to bore you. Alright, here it is: I've decided to continue with a few of my 'Sorting Hat' oneshots – only, I'm not the most intelligent of people, and am having some serious trouble with some plotlines (_nooooo_ idea where this thing came from).

Also, if anyone likes this, please review? They really make my day! (and motivate me to write more…)


	3. In Which the Walls Know All

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Mortal Instruments, nor Harry Potter (gee, I wish…)

**Warnings**: I think I've been pretty good with this chapter, so the worst that you're going to see is OCC-ness (sorry, but character personalities are so _hard_ to grasp…) and maybe a bit of swearing? There isn't anything I can remember, but (shrugs) may as well cover all my bases.

Hope you enjoy it!

…

…

"What are we doing?" Alec said. "I have to finish that book…"

Magnus pouted. "You've been ignoring me for that library since we got here…don't you want to spend time with me?"

Alec shot him a frustrated look. "We don't know how this magic is affecting the demons around here! This is a completely different form of the substance that you use – it _literally_ permeates everything surrounding it. It's like – like a _disease_. We don't know if it's going to infect the demons – of course, that's considering that there _are_ demons around this place, because from what we've seen there _are_ none!"

Magnus gave his boyfriend a tolerant look. "Breathe, darling."

"I am breathing!"

"Calm down, then."

"I'm _calm_!"

_Shadowhunters_, Magnus thought with one part disgust, two parts affection. "No, you're not. And these books are hardly going to help you figure out what's going on with Valentine, or this Big Bad of theirs that doesn't seem to be attacking quite as often as they thought he would."

"Your point?"

"What makes you think that I have a point?"

"You always have a point."

"Fair enough." Magnus acknowledged. "_So_, in conjuncture with all of that – how about you tell me what you were going to do with Gar-Goyle, hmm? Please?"

Alec inhaled slowly, and then exhaled slowly. "No."

"Why not?" Magnus demanded, scowling. "Come _on_, Alec – I'll make it worth your while…" he arched his eyebrow suggestively.

Alec actually thought about it for a second, but…"Yeah, because that worked out so well _last_ time."

"So is that a no?"

"Yes, it's a NO!"

…

Simon was lost.

He hated it when this happened – when everyone was somewhere else, and he couldn't find his way around this dump, and he _knew_ that something was happening (because something was _always_ happening with that group of his, whether or not he was there at the time). Simon wanted to know what was going on. He wanted to _know_ why one of the stupid Order people had suddenly appeared and whisked Isabel away, leaving him gaping.

He wanted to _know_ what Jace had done, this time.

Simon scowled at the paintings. He didn't actively _dislike_ Jace – well, honestly, he had nicer feelings towards the annoying, _evil_ half-brother of one of his maybe-girlfriends (if he felt at _all_ inadequate whenever that _git_ was in the room, well; he'd deny it to his last breath). It was just…being around Jace reminded him uncomfortably of how he was always _second best_ when it came to Clary, his best friend, and the fact that Jace wasn't actually –

"Hello, are you lost, too?"

Simon broke out of his internal musings to stare at a girl, who was watching him with soulful blue eyes.

"Um…hi…ah – no, I'm not – _yes!_" he suddenly said, brain catching up with his mouth. "Oh, thank _goodness_ – do you know where I am? Do you know the way to the Headmaster's office?"

"No."

And just like that, Simon's dreams of actually getting back in time to see the Interesting Thing that was sure to be happening vanished. He deflated like a burst balloon.

"Oh," he said, disappointed.

The girl was quick to reassure him. "Don't worry, though. I'm lost, too. We can be lost together, okay?"

Simon couldn't even dredge up a smile. "Okay." He said miserably.

"I'm sure that I could get the dooglebugs* to show us the way!" the girl said enthusiastically, obviously feeling bad about not fulfilling Simon's dearest wish.

She was quite pretty, Simon noticed in a detached sort of way. He was far too involved with Maia and Isabel to even _think_ about starting something in this School for Weirdness, but that didn't mean he couldn't _look_, right? Her skin had a bleached, milky sheen to it and her hair was so blond it was almost white. Her face was completely dwarfed by her empty blue eyes.

"Dooglebugs?" Simon asked eagerly. "What are they? I've been reading about all these mythical creatures, but I've never heard of them!"

"They're very small," the girl said. "And fast. Faster than a zmorf* – _zoom_! – so fast that you can't _ever_ catch them with your hands. They've got these really small wings that are like a water-silk butterfly*, and they have a horn on the front of their faces that they use to poke it into our skin and suck our blood, like the nightmarish mort-bodies*, who come back from the grave to destroy our souls and eat our flesh. Once they are done with our blood they then leave a blemish on our skin, from which the dooglebug can draw strength until it is either scratched away, or has faded naturally on its own."

Simon wasn't sure whether to be freaked out by the girl of not. He thought about what she sad. "Like – mosquitos?"

The girl blinked at him slowly. "What?"

"Y'know – mosquitos." Simon shifted uncomfortably. "They're really nasty little bugs that suck on our blood and leave behind bites that really itch." Not that he had to worry about that anymore, of course, but he remembered how _irritating_ they were…

"Oh. Is that what everyone else calls them?" she gave Simon a look that clearly said _why on earth would they do that?_

"Um…"

"Never mind." The girl said. "Come with me. I'll just ask the walls where we should go, since you so obviously don't want to talk to the dooglebugs."

"Mosquitos," Simon corrected before he could stop himself.

The girl's eyes turned slightly frosty, and she turned and walked away from him without a second glance.

"Hey – hey, wait! I don't even know your name!"

"Luna 'Loony' Lovegood," the girl said without looking back. "And you'd best hurry. The walls** are irritated with having a Child of the Night wandering around aimlessly."

…

Malfoy turned an irritated glare towards his only remaining henchman, Crabb.

"Why isn't Goyle here?" he demanded.

"He went to go and – ah – talk to that Lightwood kid."

"Which one?" Malfoy demanded, feeling the beginning of a headache stirring. Today, he wasn't up to Potter-baiting (fun as that was), complex-thinking of any form of physical activity that was sure to follow, since Goyle had gone missing (and that never – _ever_ – ended well. The last time something like this had happened, the house elves had _not_ been pleased). At the moment, he just wanted to go and do his homework (of which he had quite a lot).

But _no_. His life couldn't be _that_ easy. Now, one of his most trusted – well, okay, maybe not _trusted_; 'loyal' would probably be a better word to use – henchman was missing.

"The scrawny one; the queer."

Draco Malfoy inhaled, and then exhaled. Inhale. Exhale.

"Go and check the Infirmary," he told his remaining follower resignedly. While he had the utmost faith in his henchman, he also recognised that these transfers were trained professionals. Much as it grated on him, he knew that the odds were stacked _against_ Goyle. "Whatever's happened, Goyle's probably around there. _Now_." He snapped, when Crabb didn't move.

Crabb nodded and hastily sprinted away. Malfoy watched him go with an aura of annoyed detachment. He was not pleased. He was tired, frustrated, and wanted nothing more than to go and wash his hands of this mess.

He wasn't going to do that, of course; he was a Malfoy, and – like it or not – Goyle was one of those under his protection. Something had happened to him, and Malfoy was determined to find out what.

And after he had chewed out Goyle, he was going to have to do something about those transfers…

…

"…and then I've got to inform Professor Sprout that the greenhouse glass is unhappy with the new cleaning spells that she is trying out; they don't make enough use of the natural air-vapour and instead rely on the innate water that lies hidden within the glass, and that just dries it out and makes it more prone to cracking and – Simon? Are you okay?"

"Yes." Simon said vaguely, wondering how he had managed to get himself attached to one as strange as Luna Lovegood. After almost an hour of aimless wondering (in which they had both tried in vain to search for something even _remotely _familiar – a fact that seemed to alarm Simon far more than Luna) the girl had finally seemed to get over whatever he had done to offend her, and was now chatting away like they weren't lost.

"Oh, if you're sure. You don't look terribly well. Perhaps we should try to find the Infirmary." She gave the daylighter a thoughtful look. "Is it because of the magic? Does it make you sick, because you are a Child of Night?"

Simon stared at her uncomfortably.

"How _do_ you know that?" he asked once again.

And, as last time, she gave him the vague answer of: "The walls told me."

"And _what_, exactly, did they tell you?" Simon asked, a touch desperately.

"That you were a Child of Night, and that your presence did not belong within them. Your magic does not mix well with ours, I'm afraid. Something's going to explode, soon." She sounded neither pleased nor displeased of the face.

Simon swallowed. "Explode?"

"You know." Luna gave him a patient look. "Boom."

"Oh. Boom. Right."

For once, she seemed to catch on to what was bothering him. "_You_ won't explode, of course." She promised him. "But it'll probably be that other one – the warlock – will do something bad and then there'll be lots of fire for the fire imps to play with."

"Let me guess." Simon sounded resigned. "You know that Magnus is a warlock because – the walls told you?"

Luna gave him a look that said she thought he had just said something incredibly stupid.

"Of course not." She said. "The floor. His aura _glitters_," her eyes lit up. "It's _wonderful_ to listen about!"

Simon stared at her, unnerved that someone would actually _talk_ like that about _Magnus Bane_ (excluding, of course, Alec – who was so entrapped with the warlock that it was almost sickening at times).

"Take the thing that he's planning with his boyfriend, at the moment." Luna continued, skipping along the cracks in the floor.

Simon started to feel uneasy. "Magnus is planning something?"

"It's going to be funny." Luna smiled. "Though I'm afraid that the roof isn't terribly pleased with the plan. It doesn't approve of any magic going to waste, you see, on something that it deems as frivolous."

Simon was almost afraid to ask. "The…roof?"

"Yes, yes. It's very proper about the use of magic, you see."

"Yes…I see…" _What on earth is she talking about_? Simon thought desperately.

"Oh!" Luna smiled. "Harry Potter! Would you mind showing us the way to the Infirmary?"

Harry Potter glanced up from reading his timetable, startled.

"Luna!" he said. "And – Simon? Simon Lewis? What are you doing here?"

"I'm lost." Simon said, in the way one might address a messenger who had stopped an execution. "Luna is trying to help me get to the Headmaster's office. I don't suppose you could show me the way, could you?"

He was ten seconds from falling to his knees and _begging_ Harry to get him away from this crazy girl. Luna was great. She really was. But – she unnerved him on a level that Simon just couldn't understand. She _knew_ things. Things that weren't supposed to be _known_.

Harry gave him a sympathetic, understanding look that said: _I know exactly how you're feeling_.

"The Infirmary should be that way, Luna." Harry said, pointing towards the nearest staircase. "Keep going along that corridor, and you'll be close. If you can't find it, I'm sure there's another student who'll be willing to show you the way." He paused, concerned. "Is there a reason as to why you're going there? Are you hurt?" he shot Simon a sharp, considering look.

Simon bristled.

"No, of course not, Harry Potter." Luna smiled dreamily at him. "But I want to go and give my condolences to Mr Goyle, while he can still speak."

Simon gave her a hard stare. "What do you mean by that, Luna?"

"Oh, I already told you that." She actually giggled. "Tell Mr Bane that I look forward to his performance, very much!"

Simon could only stare at her in horror as she skipped off, seemingly oblivious to the fear that she had just stirred.

"Take me to the Headmaster's office!" he barked urgently at Harry. "_Now_!"

"What…?" Harry just stared at him dumbly.

Simon just started to stride away urgently in the first direction that caught his attention. They didn't have _time_ for this! "Hurry! We've got to stop an Incident of epic proportions! We've got to keep this school in one piece!"

"Wait!" Harry sped after him. "Hang on a sec! You're going the wrong way!"

…

The Sorting Hat cringed away from the Headmaster.

"Now, now – if you'd only tell me what's wrong…" Professor Dumbledore was trying to say.

"_No!_" the Hat said, sounding thoroughly traumatised. "No, no, _no_! You will not _make_ me come out of this office until that – that _monster_ is gone! I will have _none_ of it! None, I say!" it gave a small wail. "LEAVE ME ALONE!"

Dumbledore looked startled, and quickly backed away.

"Don't worry." He said. "I'll make sure that nothing bad happens to you." There was a thoughtful pause. "What _did_ that young man _do_ to you, to make you this frightened?"

The Hat could feel its leather bleach as the terrible memories washed over him.

"There is _nothing_ young about that man…" it whispered hoarsely.

"I – yes, of course. Now, as I was saying: I'll keep him out of this office, if that would calm your nerves."

"It would." The Hat insisted shakily.

"Do not worry, I will protect you from – whatever it is about him that has frightened you so badly, old friend. I won't let anything bad happen to you –"

The doors to the office exploded and Magnus Bane strode in, covering everything in glitter.

"Hello, Hattie," he drawled. "Would you mind if I borrowed him for a few hours, Dumbles?"

And, without waiting for the shocked Headmaster's reply, Magnus Bane snatched the screaming Sorting Hat from its shelf and sped away without so much as a backwards glance.

…

…

* Okay, so I'm pretty much making most of these up. *shrugs* I liked the way they sounded, and – c'mon – Luna does spout some pretty weird stuff. Sorry for those pedantic about canon, but this really isn't a canon 'fic (well, that, and I'm a terrible writer).

** I read somewhere, something about Luna being able to talk to inanimate objects. That is where this piece of insanity came from.

I hope that this was okay. Tell me how to improve if you've found some inaccuracies/things that you don't like!

Reviews make me happy (and encourage me to write/upload faster)!


	4. When Penguins Tap-Dance

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Harry Potter, nor Mortal Instruments (can you imagine, being able to write that well?)

I'm sorry that this has taken so long. One more after this, and then I _promise_ this is ended!

Enjoy :)

…

Magnus stared at the Sorting Hat.

The Sorting Hat stared back.

"I'm afraid you're going to have to leave," Headmaster Dumbledore said, looking slightly unnerved. "We can't allow such a precedence, you see."

Magnus smiled. It wasn't a nice smile. "I understand, Headmaster."

Alec slowly and carefully began edging away from his boyfriend.

"Headmaster!" someone barged into the room, panting. "You can't do this! It wasn't his fault!" Clary paused, breathing heavily. "Well, okay, it kida was, but you still can't do this!"

"Clary…" Alec gave her a kind look. "I really don't think that you're helping, here."

"But!"

"Hold up!" Jace skidded into the office, arms waving around madly. "It was me! _I_ instigated the food fight! _I_ set fire to the tapestry! _I_ was the one who played _Spice Girls_ through the hallways –"

"That was _you_?" Alec stared at Jace. "I knew there was something fishy about that! Magnus _hates_ the Spice Girls…"

"That was Izzy's idea!" Jace insisted, suddenly looking a bit embarrassed. "Anyway! If you're going to blame anyone, blame me – and Clary."

"Wait, _what_?" Clary gaped at her boyfriend.

"Expel me from this disastrously dull castle and transport me back to New York! I want demons! I want blood! All I ask is that you punish my partner in crime as you would myself – that's right, _Clary Fray_ was the instigator of this all!"

"NO I WASN'T!" Clary lunged at Jace, but he nimbly skipped to one side, catching her just as she was about to fall flat on her face.

"I see," Dumbledore nodded sagely. "Of course. Could you please leave, Mr Bane?"

The Sorting Hat let out a pathetic sort of squeak.

Alec looked vaguely guilty.

Magnus Bane, on the other hand, looked like he had just won the lottery. "Why, of _course_, Headmaster!" he said, beaming. "Come along, Alec…"

Alec just glared at him.

"Alec…" Magnus sighed.

"I'm staying here." His boyfriend said stubbornly. "At the moment, I'm probably the closest thing to a defense lawyer that you've got – barring Jace, of course. But I really don't think that Jace counts."

"I always count!" Jace announced grandly as he put Clary into a headlock.

"You _never_ count!" Alec fired back.

"How _dare_ you, you nave!"

"You know you just called me a _church building_, right?"

"Of course I know! I – hey! Ouch! Clary!"

"Ha!" Clary gave a shout of triumph as she ground her heel further into Jace's foot. "Take that! Now, what was I…" she suddenly became conscious that everyone was staring at them. Glaring darkly at Jace, she elbowed him in the stomach (to which he gave a theoretical groan and staggered backwards, as though he had been stabbed) and dusted herself off, pasting a slightly off-kilted smile onto her face.

"Miss Fray, could you please sit down?" Dumbledore said, twinkly-eyes gone. "And _Mister Bane_, would you ever be so kind as to _leave the room_?"

"You got it, Dumbles!" Magnus gave an airy laugh and winked to the quivering Sorting Hat, before stalking off down the stairs in a shower of purple glitter.

The Sorting Hat screamed and tried desperately to wriggle off the stool it had been perched on. Dumbledore quickly cast a spell, and the sparkles froze in the air.

"There, there…" he said calmly as he banished them somewhere. "Calm down, old friend…"

"Sparkles – Bane – _Spice Girls_ –" it said in a traumatized whisper.

"This is your fault!" Alec glared at Jace.

"Of course it is!" Jace nodded eagerly. "My fault! Mine and Clary's!"

"I had nothing to do with this!" Clary shouted.

"Yes you did!"

"No I –!"

"Enough!" Dumbledore bellowed. "I have _called_ Mister Lightwood here to see if I can get the bottom of this mess – and, seeing as you two are here as well, you can help me. Understood?"

"Understood." The three chimed back dutifully.

"Very well," and suddenly Dumbledore was all smiles and lemon-drops once again. "I'm glad that we've got that all sorted out. Now, from the beginning…"

"Well…" Alec exchanged dubious looks with Clary. "I guess it started with the candy bazooka…"

"No, no, it was the flamingo on fire," she shook her head.

"That came after the tap-dancing penguins…"

"They were near the end!" Clary insisted. "First we were just sitting down, minding our own business, when…"

(Flashback)

"Hey, does something smell like smoke to you?" Jace frowned as he glanced around. Izzy, Clary and he were sitting at the Gryffindor table for breakfast. Clary was picking at her food listlessly (while she was thoroughly enjoying Charms, they had Transfiguration first period and that was perhaps her worst subject), Izzy was sending not-so-subtle glances over to the Hufflepuff table at Simon (who was too dense to notice, being in deep conversation with a petite Ravenclaw girl), and Jace was digging into his food like there was no tomorrow.

Izzy tore her gaze away from spying on her boyfriend and inhaled deeply, a frown marring her smooth forehead. "Yeah…" she said slowly, sounding suspicious. "Yeah, something _does_ smell like smoke. Should we be running…?"

"FIRE!" someone screamed over at the Slytherin table.

The entire school stood up at almost exactly the same time (apart from Jace, who just sat coolly on the bench and chewed on a sausage), most rushing away from – some reckless idiots rushing _to_ – the source of the commotion.

Clary stopped in surprise, with Izzy bumping into her back.

"Hey, what's with you – oh, by the _Angel_…" she breathed, eyes wide.

Three giant flamingos – dressed in pink-and-black tutu's – were doing the can-can on top of the Slytherin table.

They were on fire.

Or, rather, they were _surrounded_ by fire.

Clary and Isabelle could only stare in horror as the flamingos continued to kick at the plates and cutlery on the table sending them flying.

"Magnus," Izzy said darkly.

(End of Flashback)

Dumbledore leaned forward. "How did you know that Mr Bane was behind that?"

Clary's face turned sour. "The fact that he was hiding behind Alec and giggling uncontrollably was a bit of a give-away."

"Ah."

(Flashback)

"This _cannot_ be happening!" Clary moaned.

"Are you kidding? We're at a _magic_ school. I'm surprised this hasn't happened before now." Izzy sounded one part amused, two parts horrified. "Alec! Control your boyfriend!"

"I can't!" came the almost-miserable reply. "He stole my books!"

"Nuts," Izzy muttered. "We've lost him to the dark side. He'll do _anything_ for his books…"

(End of Flashback)

"Hold it!" Alec interrupted, looking annoyed. "I will _not_ do anything for my books!"

"Ah, _yes_, you will!" Jace grinned. "Remember that time where I stole one of those dusty old tomes that you were reading, and then I forced you downstairs into the church with all those spiders…?"

"YOU PROMISED NEVER TO TALK ABOUT THAT AGAIN!" Alec lunged forward in an attempt to strangle his best friend, looking thoroughly annoyed.

Jace tried to dodge, but Alec twisted his body so that he could crash his shoulder into Jace's stomach, forcing them both to the ground.

Clary sighed. "Here we go again…"

"Miss Fray…would you mind helping to explain the rest of what happened?"

Clary gave another exasperated look the two wrestling boys, and then sighed. "Sure. Not like I've got anything better to do. So, after all those flamingos the teachers came and tried to banish them – only, then came in the penguins…"

(Flashback)

"Move! Let me through, let me through…" Professor McGonagall practically had to elbow her way through the crowd. Now that most of the students had figured out that the flames and flamingos were just illusions, a lot of them had decided to form a loose sort of ring around the Slytherin table, strangely interested in the whole show.

Clary and Izzy quickly moved away – they knew, from experience, that things _never_ went well when Magnus was angry.

"Something is going to blow up, soon," Clary sighed.

"I know."

"Oh, thank goodness I found you!"

The two turned to see Simon and the Ravenclaw girl behind them, a relieved look on his face.

"Simon." Izzy said flatly. "Hi. Who's your friend?"

Simon looked confused at his less-than-enthusiastic reception, but then glanced to the pale-haired Ravenclaw.

"This is Luna. Luna Lovegood. Luna, these are my friends, Clary and Isabelle."

"Friend, huh?" Izzy said with a wry twist of her mouth.

"Ah…" Simon floundered.

"As much fun as it is to watch Simon put his foot in his mouth, I think we've got bigger problems going on." Clary interrupted them.

"I warned him that this was going to happen!" Simon said, nodding to the Slytherin table. "I told the Headmaster that Bane was going to pull off something weird and crazy and _dangerous_, but…"

"He didn't believe you?"

"He thought I was exaggerating. And when I cited Luna here as a source…"

"He doesn't believe that the walls can talk," Luna sighed, sounding sleepily disappointed. "Of course, he's very open minded – sometimes, he even shows me the best places for chimaera sprites to sleep – but he doesn't think that rocks can become sentient, even though he's got a perfect example of such a thing with the Sorting Hat…" she shook her head.

"Ah…_right_…" Izzy smiled uneasily.

"I like you," Luna told her. "The walls have nice things to say about you, though the floors keep asking if you'd be willing to stop wearing such high heels. They keep scratching the stone."

"Ahh…"

"Come on, let's go before something explodes," Clary grabbed her friend's arm and dragged her towards the doors of the Great Hall…

"PENGUINS!" someone screamed in absolute terror.

_Oh, no_, they all thought.

Sure enough, a long line of penguins – dressed in black waistcoats, and tap-dancing – swarmed through the doors, to many people's amusement and horror.

"Oh, no…" Clary groaned. "He didn't…"

There were a few screams, but the best most students could do was just stare and gape.

"This guy is _psychotic_." Simon groaned. "He's a _maniac_. He should be _locked up_. Seriously, you brother has had a few to many blows to the head if he thinks _this_ is attractive."

"I did beat him up quite a few times…" Izzy said thoughtfully.

"Where's Jace?" Clary interrupted, suddenly looking panicked.

"Not good!" Izzy yelped, twisting around in the vein hope that she could see her foster-brother. "He can't go off by himself! Clary!" she glared at her friend. "You were supposed to be watching him!"

"Gee, sorry, I was distracted by the _dancing flamingos_."

"We've got to find him! There's a _reason_ that we keep watch on him at all times!"

"He's a disaster when he's on his own!"

"Is he really that bad?" Lune looked up at them with wide blue eyes.

"YES!"

(End of Flashback)

"You know, I resent that," Jace grunted out as he was elbowed in the gut by Alec. "I am not – _ouch_ – that bad!"

"Yes you are!" Clary turned to glare at him. "I have never met a more chaos-attracting, accident-prone _creature_ in my life –"

"I am human!" Jace said indignantly. "Sort of."

"Kick him below the belt, Alec!"

…

**A/N**: there is _one_ more chapter in this fic, and then I am _done_. Hear me? D-O-N-E. The stress is _killing_ me: I can't be working on more than one fic at the time, or I get all twitchy and – and – (sighs). I'm sorry that this has taken so long (it really, _really_ shouldn't have). Please accept my apologies.

(Deep breath). Okay. One more chappie, and I'm good to go.

Please review! Maybe I'll work on the next one faster than this one (I can't believe it's taken me _this long_…)

MM


	5. The Repression of Glitter

**Disclaimer**: I own neither Mortal Instruments nor Harry Potter (more's the pity)

Enjoy :)

…

The Sorting Hat was trying not to melt into a puddly of quivering leather goo.

Over the years, it had learnt one very important skill – a skill that was incredibly essential for extended stays at the school of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A skill that every person, creature or thing that ever walked through the halls learned in a matter of weeks.

Repression.

For _years_, the Sorting Hat had managed to repress every traumatic, horrible, _weird_ thing that had ever happened to it. From the Flying Piglets Incident of '67 to the Attack of the Fire-Breathing Monogeneses (Dumbledore's desk had never been quite the same), the Sorting Hat had held its ground and (somewhat questionable) sanity with the grim grip of that of a dying man.

But now…

_But now…_

"I quit!" it wailed, wiggling around on its stool as much as it could. "That's it! I'm done! I QUIT!"

"Now, now, old friend…" Dumbledore started.

"NO! No, no, no, no! I QUIT! I'm done! Understand, old man? D-O-N-E!" the Sorting Hat would have burst into tears, had it possessed tear sockets. And actual eyes. "This is it, Headmaster! I've ignored a _lot_ of things during my time here at Hogwarts – the talent shows Headmaster Dippet held with the house-elves, the monthly tennis-table tournaments with the Giant Squid…"

Dumbledore's eyes widened slightly, and he said: "You _know_ about those?"

The Sorting Hat ignored him. "Professor McGonagall's _tea parties_ that you _demanded that I attend_, and – _worst of all_ – Professor Snape's collection of fluorescent snakes that you insist on keeping in your office!"

"Those little creatures are perfectly nice, once you get to know them…"

"THEY GIVE ME NIGHTMARES!" it wailed. "But I've held me ground – I have been _loyal_, I have been _brave_, I have put up with things that NO TALKING HAT SHOULD EVER HAVE TO PUT UP WITH! And I've done it with a smile, and every year without fail I have gone up in front of the school and Sorted a new generation of First Years, and –"

"You're hyperventilating," the annoying one – Jace – said.

"I CAN'T HYPERVENTILATE! I DON'T BREATHE!" the Hat fairly screamed. "But that isn't the point," it added in a remarkably calmer voice. "The point is that I am _done_. I quit. Please leave."

"Old friend…"

The Sorting Hat closed its eyes and once again tried for repression – and, for the first time in its incredibly long period of sentiency, it failed.

The reason behind this sudden mental break?

_Magnus Bane_.

The glittery, sparkly, _devil incarnate_ had been the absolute bane of the Hate's existence since they had first met in 1789. He had entered Hogwarts for the first time out of simple curiosity, having noticed the wards and gallivanted into the Forbidden Forest without so much as a by-your-leave.

There had been chaos. Floors. Fires. People transfigured into all manner of small, strangely coloured rodents. Of course, many of these things were not uncommon at Hogwarts, but they had happened with such alarming frequency during the space of a single week that the school had actually been closed for a while.

Leaving the Sorting Hat alone with _Magnus Bane_.

So, once again, it had repressed the memories and moved on.

And then they had met _again_ – which had been Headmaster Dippit's fault, of course, but everyone seemed to have forgotten what a _weird_ person the Headmaster had been while drunk, and the Hat wasn't exactly keen to edit the history books.

So here it was. Sitting there, on its stool, watching as Headmaster Dumbledore and three of the transfers (thankfully, excluding Bane) started at it like it was about to spontaneously combust.

"Could you please go and lock me up somewhere nice and dry until next year?" it asked in the calmest voice that it could manage.

"Sorting Hat…"

"I am traumatized because these – these _creatures_ decided to force me though an hour-long rendition of the _Spice Girls_…"

"Izzy's idea!" Jace almost shouted. "Why doesn't anyone believe me about that?"

"And then I was dunked in _maple syrup_…"

"Clary's idea!"

"NO IT WASN'T!" the pretty redhead hissed. "That was _you_. I wasn't even in your vicinity – I was upstairs, watching the tap-dancing penguins. Right, Mr Sorting Hat?"

"And then I was forced onto M Goyle's head…"

"That was Magnus's idea. I had nothing to do with that. _I_ voted to keep you out of this entire debacle, but he insisted."

The Hat paused in its rant. "Bless you," it said sincerely. "For attempting to keep me out of the clutches of that _monstrosity…_"

"Ha! Your boyfriend's a monstrosity…" Jace laughed.

"So is mine!" Clary sighed in exasperation.

"But _then_ I was forced into Mr Goyle's head, and then we were tortured by illusions of pole-dancing sheep. I didn't know that they could be that _bendy_…"

"…pole dancing sheep?" Even Jace looked a bit disturbed at that one.

"And then…and then…" the Hat choked up. "And then I was subjected to an hour of Magnus Bane reminiscing about the – the – the…" a shudder seemed to sock the Hat's suddenly frail-looking leather. "The _seventies_…"

"Umm…" Clary exchanged a dubious look with her boyfriend. Alec looked slightly confused, and Dumbledore was the only one in the room who seemed to show the appropriate amount of horror.

"Oh, Hat…" he said, looking devastated. "I'm sorry. The – the _seventies_? Was he even alive back then?"

"Yeah, he was, but what was so bad about…"

"IT WAS A BAD TIME!" The Hat almost shouted.

"It was a regrettable period of human history that everyone would be better off forgetting," the Headmaster said firmly. "For the magical community, at least. I, myself, find that much of it is a haze…"

"You would," the Hat muttered. "Lucky bastard…"

"Don't swear in front of children," Dumbledore said, suddenly looking severe.

"Are you _kidding_?" the Hat would have scowled, had it been so able. "I'm pretty sure that they've got a worse vocabulary than mine."

"Which is entirely regrettable," Headmaster Dumbledore said. "But that doesn't matter. I'm not interested in anyone's bad language. What I want is to fully understand what happened earlier."

"You don't want to," the Hat said darkly.

"I can't believe that I'm agreeing to a talking Hat, but I am. You _really_ don't want to know what happened." Jace sad solemnly. "All you _need_ to know is that Clary instigated most of it, and I was her mindless follower on account that she scrambled my brains by making out with me. Therefore, the blame rests sourly on us, and we should be the ones expelled and sent back to New York."

"If you don't stop telling lies, Jace, I'm gonna…"

"What?" the boy grinned cockily. "Just _what_ are you going to do to me, Clary?"

Her eyes glittered evilly. "Maybe you should be worried about what I'm _not_ going to do to you, Jace."

Jace went pale, and then went quiet.

_It's a miracle_, the Hat thought.

"Being as it may, I must know…"

"I was kidnapped by a raging psychopath with a glitter fetish!" the Hat shouted. "What more do you need to know than that?"

"I need to know who was involved…"

"THE WHOLE SCHOOL!"

"And I need to know whose parents I need to contact for trauma treatment…"

"Whoever saw the flamingos," Clary said. "And you should probably Goyle looked at. I'm not too sure what sort of effect pole dancing sheep have on someone, but I doubt that it's good."

"You should probably check on Draco Malfoy, too," Alec said in the thoughtful silence that followed.

"Mr Malfoy? Why?" Dumbledore's voice turned sharp.

"He may or may not have tried to attack me and he may or may not have gotten a snapped wrist," Alec said, sounding a bit contrite. "And Magnus may have gotten…uh, _annoyed_ at that." He blinked a few times, like he was trying to scrub his mind of something. "_Very_ annoyed."

"I'll be right back," Dumbledore strode from the room.

"What did he do to Malfoy?" Jace asked, voice full of unholy glee.

"Um…there was glitter involved. Lots of glitter. And braids. And bows." Alec looked faintly disturbed. "I'm beginning to think I should bad him from _Project Runway_ for a few weeks. Or forever."

Clary blinked. "I don't think that I'm going to ask," she said faintly.

"Yes. Don't. I'd rather not recall it, myself."

"You must learn to repress," the Sorting Hat said knowledgeably. "It will come in handy many times during your lifetime."

…

**A/N**: This isn't the last chapter – this is kind of an interlude _to_ the last chapter. I wrote this because I'm board, and I've finished the latest chapter for 'This Isn't', and I _hate_ school holidays. Sigh. I'm sorry if I sounded stressed n my last A/N, but I kinda was (I should be doing homework instead of writing this, but I'm just not in an essay mood). Thanks to everyone that reviewed (never gotten so many reviews for one chapter...wow...you're all so amazing!)

Also – about the seventies thing. I mean no disrespect to that period of time.

The next (and last) chapter might take a little bit of time (seeing as I haven't evens started writing it).

Please review! And feel free to check out my other stories :)

MM


	6. These People are NOT Heroes!

**Disclaimer**: I own neither Mortal Instruments, nor Harry Potter

Enjoy :)

"Alright, I think that we're done here," Jace announced with a proud gin on his unnaturally handsome face.

Two cheers sounded – one for the fact that all the demons that had attacked Hogwarts had been destroyed, the other for the fact that the transfers were _finally leaving_.

Students lined the halls with bright smiles and occasional hugs for the Shadowhunters (though most stayed away from the glittery Warlock and his broody boyfriend). Dumbledore met them in the Great Hall, a welcoming (if somewhat strained) smile on his wrinkled face.

"My friends," he began as the students rushed to take their seats at each respective table. The Shadowhunters (including one glittery Warlock and one not-glittery vampire) stood in the middle of it all, staring straight down at the Headmaster, heads held high.

"My students," Dumbledore said. "We have prevailed! As of now, I can safely assure you that we have won this battle!"

The cheer that went up was deafening – even the students at the Slytherin table looked slightly less-gloomy than before the battle. While some were scowling, most just looked happy that they hadn't been ripped to pieces by the out-of-control demons that quite a few of their parents had released onto them (which had seemed like _such_ a good idea at the time).

"It is all thanks to the sheer magnificence of our friends – _your_ classmates – the transfers from the New York Institute, the Shadowhunters!"

More cheers. It took a while for silence to prevail.

"And now, I must thank each one of these marvellous people for their commendable actions during the Demon Invasion of Hogwarts" – as it was then after known as – "For was it not for their brave actions, I fear that grave peril may have fallen upon us all –"

"WAIT A MINUTE!"

The Great Hall fell silent, though an inaudible murmuring could be felt through vibrations around the room. In strode a very irritated fourth year by the name of Nigel Wespurt* (who had been spending time within the Headmaster's office during the Invasion, thanks to a timely explosion during Potions, courtesy of his best friend Bem*). However, it didn't really matter _who_ walked through the doors – rather, the more important fact was _what was on his head_.

The Sorting Hat.

"You have all been told terrible, terrible lies!" it announced from its perch atop Nigel Wespurt's head. "_Dreadful_ lies! These people standing before you are NOT heroes!"

No dramatic gasps ensured – that was alright, though, because the Sorting Hat was far from done.

"They are the _instigators_ of the Frog Hopping competition that led to three trips to St Mungos and an increase in the number of calming draughts that Professor Snape was forced to brew – _they_ are the reason behind those terrible lace doilies that sit underneath you eating utensils even as I speak – _they _are why no one can ever look at a parakeet" – a collective shudder went around the room – "The same way ever again!"

"In my defence," Jace started. "That parakeet" – more shuddering – "Didn't look _anything_ like what it was advertised as."

"Let it go, Jace," Clary muttered. "We're almost out of here, and no one's been seriously maimed yet. I'd say that's a record – one I want to hold."

"But even if that wasn't enough!" the Hat continued dramatically, mentally prompting Nigel Wespurt to walk towards the front of the Great Hall. Hundreds of eyes followed the poor boy avidly, expressions ranging from horrified to disturbed to annoyed to hungry (though that could have just been Ron Weasley – _that boy always had such an appetite_, the Sorting Hat thought almost fondly).

"If that wasn't _enough_," the Hat repeated, "Then they had to go and _cover the Owlery in glitter_" (to be fair, that was mostly Magnus Bane's fault, but the rest of the lot were guilty by association, as far at the Sorting Hat was concerned) "Which not only made a massive mess, but also led to a high increase in the number of students seeking out therapy!" _Why_ a student would need therapy after going into a glittery Owlery the Sorting Hat had no idea – unless, of course, it was just the stick that broke the camel's back. It would sympathise, what with the students being exposed to _Magnus Bane_ for the better part of a year.

Anyone would need therapy, after that.

"Hat…" Dumbledore started to say.

"No! No, old friend, enough! I cannot stand by and let these – these – these…" the Hat seemed to struggle to come up with something insulting enough to call them. "These _creatures_ be cheered at as _heroes_! They have nearly destroyed the school! Twice!"

"The second time was an accident!" Izzy scowled.

"Which was _your_ fault," Jace looked accusingly at his adopted sister. "Like that whole issue with the Spice Girls. People keep pointing and laughing at me now!"

"They'd point and laugh at you anyway," Clary muttered. "Idiot."

"They would do no such thing! If it hadn't been for Izzy, people would fall to my feet and be dazzled by my ravishing good looks…"

"Or half the guys would have just tried to kill you out of jealousy," Simon suggested. "If it weren't for those mocking cackles, I think that most of them would have had a go at you."

"You mean have a go _for_ me- right, Alec?" he gave his best friend a winning smile, that faltered at Alec's Glare of Doom. "Too much?"

"A little bit, yeah."

Jace had the good sense to look faintly alarmed. "Please don't sic your very strange and slightly terrifying boyfriend on me. That wasn't meant as an insult. Really."

"Most things never are with you, Jace," Alec sighed – though, when Jace's head was turned, he exchanged a quick smirk with Magnus.

"We have faced numerous perils, here at Hogwarts!" the Sorting Hat railed on. "Much blood and gore and death – but these children, these wicked, horrible children – they have brought here nothing but misery and grief! They have brought trauma and terror! They must be _kicked out_!"

"Ahem!" Dumbledore quickly bent down from his podium to snatch the Hat away from Nigel Wespurt's head. "Please go and sit at your table, Nigel."

The boy rushed off, face almost as red as his hair.

"Headmaster Dumbledore…" the Sorting Hat began, voice pleading.

"Enough, old friend," Dumbledore said, firmly yet gently. "I am about to ask these kind saviours to leave the premises and go back to New York. Jace, in particular, has been waiting for this pronouncement for some time."

The Hat paused. "Oh."

"Now, if you would let me get on with my speech, we can have a lovely celebration feast, and they can be gone as early as tomorrow morning. Would that suit you, old friend?"

The Hat thought about it. "Yes," it said after a long moment of deliberation. "That would suit me very well."

"Good." Dumbledore placed the Hat on top of his podium and addressed the students once again. "And now that that is out of the way – let us eat!"

"Food!" Ron grinned at the dazzling display of edible things that appeared on the plates before him.

"Strange," Hermione muttered. "I didn't think that the house elves would have time to cook this up. We just finished fighting off a Demon Invasion" (a term which certainly deserved Capital Letters) "Where did they get time to do the cooking?"

"Maybe they ordered in?" Harry said with a shrug.

"_Can_ house elves order in food?" an annoying (yet somehow attractive) voice said from behind them. "Where would they get it from? How would they transport it?"

"Jace?" Clary said with a sigh, sitting herself down next to her insufferable boyfriend. "Do me a favour and _shut it_."

"How you _wound me_, my fair – ouch! Hey, it's impolite to stab other people with eating utensils!"

"That never stopped _you_ from going at Simon."

"Simon doesn't count," Jace muttered sulkily.

"And _why_ doesn't my best friend count?"

"Because he's Simon!" Jace insisted.

"Because _that's_ a good reason." Clary rolled her eyes and piled her plate with food. "Phew, I'm starved. I haven't seen that many demons in a long time – how 'bout you, Jace?"

"Piece of cake," Jace bragged, shit-eating grin clamped firmly on his face. "Getting a little rusty there, apprentice?"

"Shut it," Clary grumped, chewing on some roasted potatoes. "These are really good."

Over by the Hufflepuff table, Simon was having a very interesting time mediating between his insane friend (Luna) and his equally insane _girlfriend_ (Isabel), both of whom had decided inexplicably to come and eat with him.

"I love your hair," Isabel said to Luna, completely ignoring an increasingly uncomfortable Simon. "I could do wonders with it, if you'd let me."

"I do not think that the Jackalopes would appreciate that," Luna said in her usual dreamy voice. "Though I thank you for the offer. I could make you a very fine necklace, to ward off the Blibbering Humdinge that seems to like your boots."

"Thank you," Izzy said. "I think."

Simon just groaned silently and cursed life for ever sending him to as weird a place as Hogwarts.

Elsewhere, Alec was sitting as far away from Magnus as possible. He had his head buried in a book, and was studiously ignoring both the increasingly suggestive advances that Magnus was making, as well as the few bold attempts to ignore conversation with him. He had already garnered the addresses of the few people he deemed interesting enough to converse with outside of school (which, considering who he usually hung out with, was quite a small number), and now he had no more need to enter the world of Other People for a good twelve hours.

"Al-ec!" Magnus slid his hand up Alec's thigh.

Alec slid down the seat and continued reading. "I'm busy."

Magnus pouted. "Come on, now, don't be like…"

"I need to finish this by the end of the day, Magnus, or it's going to keep bugging me for ages. I'll talk to you later, okay?"

Magnus scowled and absently chewed on a bread roll. He considered throwing some glitter at his boyfriend, but then discarded the idea when he saw how large Alec's book was (while generally the Shadowhunter loathed to use something so precious as a book as a weapon, it _had_ been known to happen before…)

"Fine," Magnus muttered moodily – and then he spied the Hat. "I'll be back in a second, love."

Alec glanced up from his book in mild alarm (that tone of voice that Magnus was using never turned out well for anyone involved), but then abruptly decided that he had done his good deed for the day (saving Hogwarts had to count for _something_ karmatically) and went back to reading with nary a care in the world.

Magnus slipped over to the Hat, a sly, slightly evil grin on his face. Dumbledore had made a tactical retreat to the head of the staff table, and sat conversing with Professor Sprout about the many uses of anteaters.

"Oh, Ha-at!" Magnus sang, snatching the Hat and ran for the door. "My old friend – how much fun we shall have here, on my last day at Hogwarts!"

The Sorting Hat screamed in pure terror.

…

* Okay, these people exist (in the movies, anyway).

I'm done! Ta-da! I hoped that this was fun to read (it was certainly fun to _write_ – while I should have been doing homework, too. Nuts). Oh, well! I'm do-one, I'm do-one, I'm do-one! (As you can see, I'm happy. This unfinished 'fic has been bothering me for a while).

Many thanks to all the people who have reviewed my work! I love you all! :)

(Still, just because I'm done doesn't mean you have to _stop_ reviewing – hint, hint). Also, feel free to check out my other stories (this isn't my first Sorting Hat-centric crossover 'fic).

Lots of love

MM


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